A Vengeful Heart and a Cold Gun
by OpiWrites
Summary: Piltover, the city of progress, is in ruins. The only survivor of the gruesome attack by Noxians is Caitlyn, the Sheriff of Piltover. She swears vengeance on the city-state of Noxus, and quickly sets upon the task. Caitlyn, Sheriff of Piltover, whether she likes it or not is now a refuge from the law where once she was a protector of it.
1. The Assassination

Whew, it's been awhile! Haven't written on here since before Christmas! Well, hopefully I'm not too rusty to make an enjoyable story, so here you go!

The world slows as I look down the scope of my gun. Sounds of the crowd fade into a dull roar, like a seashell put to one's ear. All I care about is the Noxian General between my crosshairs. To be fair, I don't even care about him, only that I see him crumple, dead, to the ground within the next few seconds. I take a breath, put my cheek to the gun, and pull the trigger.

He's dead in an instant. No chance, despite the medically-trained bodyguards near him. They didn't do their job well, did they? I chuckle silently at my own joke. Slowly the world comes back to life, sounds become distinguishable again. I hear screaming from the crowd. They're confused about what's going on, but I think some of them have an idea. For a moment I feel a pang of regret, and then I remember what he's done to me, to my city.

As I walk silently away, breaking down and slowing my rifle, I can see clearly in my mind's eye the fires burning the city to the ground. I picture the twisted metal and scrap that is all that remains of The City of Progress. The thick, suffocating smoke that so many people fall too. And all too well, the thousands upon thousands of bodies. The most haunting being the stone cold, laughing face of my partner in peace, capturing the final moments before the attack. Vi, my best friend and partner, is dead.

As I look up from my own thoughts, I see I've nearly reached Noxus borders. I know I could flee now, and they'd never find me. The league would grant me asylum, waiting out the terrible war to come. As I look to the tall, concrete wall, I know what I've got to do. With face set into a stare of grim determination, I turn from the wall and start back the way I came. I am Caitlyn, former Sheriff of Piltover. Once a keeper of the law, now a refuge from it.


	2. Captured?

The pub I entered was dimly lit, loud, and dirty. In short, it was exactly like every other pub in existence. A group of men sat at the bar, closest to the right wall and in front of a door. I could tell they were Noxian veterans; many of them had medals of honor on display, garishly pinned across their front. I chuckle silently as I walk to the opposite end of the bar. Noxians and their values, it disgusts me. As I sit and am about to order, I hear a loud voice, "Hey baby! Why don't you come over here and have a drink?", I look up, and see the man speaking is in the middle of the group and dons the most medals. He's drunk, but I comply and walk over, smiling. For now. As a sheriff, I wouldn't have to be so subtle. Yet there was no choice, I was wanted as the mystery sniper all across Noxus. I sit in the chair he's just cleared for me, smiling all the time. He smells, and I can feel my nose wanting to wrinkle in disgust. I stop it just in time.

"Hey hon, what's your name?", He asks with a drunken slur

"Cait, and yours?"

"Well Katey, I'd like to buy you a drink, and no lady has ever turned one down before!", He says, seeming to not hear the last part of my comment.

"And I'll not be the first.", I say, smiling coyly. He turns to the bartender, and holds up two fingers. He's ordering for himself, perfect. A drunk war veteran would easily slip information about what was going on, military-wise, in Noxus. The bartender slides him the drinks, smiling seemingly knowingly. It was strange, at the time, but I dismissed it as a strange smile.

"Here you go darling!", he passes me the drink. It's grog. I hate grog, never liked the taste of nearly pure alcohol. He looks to me expectantly, and I realize he wants me to take a drink. Somehow I know he'll check to see if I actually drank it, so I down a couple of swallows, barely keeping my face straight. It tastes slightly different, strange, but then maybe I just hadn't tasted it in a while. That wasn't the case, and I knew it immediately as I started to feel sleepy. The drink was tranquilized! The man saw me and laughed, then with mock concern, said "You don't look so good hun, maybe you should go lie down someplace.", He leads me, and I'm helpless, and I feel like I'm walking through a thick sheet of fog. He opens the door behind him and shoves me through. I fall onto the hard ground, and all I hear before blacking out is his sinister chuckle.

I wake, disoriented. I try to blink the dust and soot out of my eyes, and when I cannot, I reach up to wipe them. That's when I find out I can't. My arms are tied around a wooden pole that goes from floor to ceiling. My legs are similarly tied. I am groggy and not nocerned, at first. But then panic shoots through me, and my eyes open wide when I realize what has happened, and where I am. With my eyes open I can see the man standing in front of me.

"Yes, yes, come on now. I don't have all day" He says, and I straighten my legs, content to comply as I stall for time.

"Where am I?" I ask, and he chuckles.

"You're in a world of trouble, _Caitlyn_." A million things rush though my mind in an instant, and I'm shocked. He knows my actual name!

Before I can stop myself, I ask "How do you-" I cut off, realizing my mistake. But it's too late. It's all the confirmation he needs.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Now that bounty is mine."

"So, how much is that bounty?"

"Three hundred gold pieces." He smiles, laughing quietly at the joke he's made.

"Oh ha-ha." During all this chitchat, I've been working at my bonds. I recognize it from training, but I've never had to use it in a real situation. Looks like this is where it finally came in handy. Suddenly I'm loose! For the time being, I kept my arms behind the pole as if I am still tied. He comes closer to me, lifting my head up to look at him.

"Looks like you'll be my fortune, Cait." I decide to punish him for being so cliche, and punch him in the jaw. He stumbles back, yet he's still barely in reach. I reach around his head and slam it against the pole. He's out, and I fish a knife from my pocket and cut the rest of my bindings off. I look around for some supplies and my eyes rest on a bag, a couple of yards off. I quickly walk over, and look into the bag. Mostly useless, but I find rope and handcuffs. Suddenly I see the most useful thing in the bag. An atomizer, and it's label states 'Police Amnesia Spray'. Warnings are littered over the label, but I've used the stuff before. It's name is cheesy but the product is effective. The man starts to stir, and I spray some in his face and through the air vents and run through the door.

When I get back to the main bar area, the bartender seems surprised but the man's friends are asking some questions like "Are you feeling better?" They're obviously clueless. I reply kindly and assure them I'm feeling fine, and then make my way to the door. _Too close_, I breathe to myself as I exit the bar. Safe.


	3. An Internal Struggle

After the bar incident, I knew better. I was known as the only survivor of Noxus' attack, and when an unknown sniper put a bullet into a high-ranking official, they assumed it was me. Of course, they were correct, but any more incidents like that and there would be a manhunt that would probably end up with my head hanging in someone's fist. I had to take any and all precautions before making my next move.

I had decided to change my 'name' to Jess, short for Jessica. Not many people actually knew my face, but I had learned that 'Cait' was not a common name in Noxus. Ah well, I had tried, but I was safe now. I walked out of a more respectable establishment, the one I had been contemplating in for the past hour. Blinking in the bright sunlight, I decided to find out what I could about the Noxian military. Some might have had inhibitions, considering what had happened previously, but I would be stuck in an endless monotone if I never had the courage to gather information.

A little girl ran to me, with her mother chasing. I smiled at her, knowing that she was innocent of any crime. She shone bright as a ray of sunshine, and so I returned it, out of courtesy. She started to speak "Hi miss, you seem strong." I was confused for a moment the remember that Noxians valued strength over all.

"I am, would you like me to show you?" I answered, as the mother closed in on her daughter.

"I'm so very sorry miss, she just loves getting away from me." I started to sweat, because I knew that despite this girl, her mother was just as suspicious as anyone else. I acted as if I belonged here, and that it wasn't an inconvenience to me in any way.

"Oh, you don't have to be sorry, in fact, your daughter is just wonderful to be around!" I said "I was just showing her how strong I was."

"Yeah, yeah! Pick me up!" the little girl squealed. To keep up the act, I could do nothing but oblige. The girl screamed with laughter, and her mother smiled sweetly. "You should see how strong my daddy is!" She proclaimed, but then her bright face darkened, and she finished "But he's going to be away for a long time." The mother's face, too had turned ash grey, and she seemed on the verge of tears. "What's wro-" then it hit me. This little girl was the daughter of the general I had killed. I stood there, numb. It was because of me that this girl would have no father. I had caused this family's grief.

"It's ok, the last thing we want is pity right now." Said the girl's mother. After saying this, she promptly took her daughter's hand and led her away. As their bodies got smaller, I thought I could hear the quiet weeping of the mother.

I poured the firey whisky down my throat, as my conscience and my intelligence fought internally. This girl has suffered, albeit indirectly, at your hand! But her nation destroyed mine and countless others livelihood! But revenge will only hurt more people, what good is it? They deserve it, isn't that always what Kayle says, 'An eye for an eye?' And she's an angel! But it still does not make it right! As I continued this episode of basically talking to myself inside my head, I put my head down on the gritty wood of the bar and cried. No one noticed; I had my arms wrapped around my face, whiskey in right hand. Eventually the war inside of myself toned down, and I drifted off to sleep.

I woke, my eyes gritty from the crust formed around my eyes. I was being gently nudged by the bartender. "Hey, bar's closed, you gotta get home now, mkay?" I nodded groggily as I stood and stretched, yawning. I had a fierce headache, and my nose was running. I could feel the whisky making a return trip- through the same place it had entered. I stumbled outside into the cool dark, and heaved onto the ground.

The whisky burned twice as much coming back up than going in. So, with my throat burning, eyes watering, and nose running, I made my decision. I went to the motel room I had rented, and grabbed my stuff. I slid silently by the snoring desk attendant, leaving the keys behind. I set off in the direction of a more traveled part of the city-state, grabbing a poster announcing a speech from a Noxian general happening the next day, and walked into the darkness.


End file.
